


On Flat Ground

by extentia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Murder, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Stiles is UNSTABLE au, graphic murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:16:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extentia/pseuds/extentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wishes he could kill Kate, over and over. First, he’s just mad at her for Derek. But then Peter seems interested in him. He gets obsessed. Peter doesn’t take him seriously. Peter is dismissive. It’s Lydia all over again. He wants to kill Kate for what she did to Peter, but peter doesn’t take him seriously. Just wait until Peter finds out who Stiles has trussed up in their garage just waiting to burn. All for Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Flat Ground

**Author's Note:**

> I would have burned everything, if only you had asked.  
> You know I don’t like gasoline -  
> But I would have made it last.

_It is Lydia, all over again. And he doesn’t even care about Lydia. He doesn’t. He can’t even remember if he felt the same way about her as he feels about Peter. But he did feel something then. And he does feel something now. So it’s probably the same thing. Especially, Stiles thinks, because Peter is ignoring all of his efforts to bridge the gap between them. Stiles wants it gone. Stiles wants Peter. But what does Peter want?_

_If he were more forthcoming about his desires, Stiles was sure he could do something. Maybe Stiles could buy him something. Lydia never appreciated that, but he thinks Peter will. Peter’s better than Lydia, in like, every way._

_The only thing Stiles can think of – Peter wanted those responsible for the fire dead. But he already got that, right? He killed Kate. He killed the people she worked with._

_Stiles wanted her dead, too. It would be the best gift ever, if only Peter hadn’t already done it! How is he supposed to work with anything? There’s not enough information!_

_The next time they’re all at Derek’s loft, Stiles tries fishing for something. Peter doesn’t leave clues. Peter doesn’t hint at anything. He doesn’t even spend that long looking at him, for Christ’s sakes! Stiles is starting to doubt. Maybe, this will be another Lydia for him. Maybe, there’s nothing he can do. But he catches Peter’s eyes and they’re glittering with challenge. He knows. Yeah, the challenge has been lain.  
_

_He pairs up with Peter more often than not. Nobody bats an eye. Or, they do bat an eye, but they don’t want to crush him. Nobody wants to tell him they can smell his desire, the unadulterated want, the sting of bitterness and the bite of jealously whenever Peter shrugs him off. They think, Stiles will know better eventually. Eventually, Peter will tell him to fuck off. Maybe they want to bring a little bit of annoyance onto Peter. Stiles doesn’t care why. Stiles just cares that he gets to continue doing what he’s doing. He’s trying to learn._

_The relationship between the Argents and the remaining Hales is tense. Peter sneers at Allison when she’s not looking, and when she is looking, and when Stiles is looking. Most importantly he does it when Stiles is looking. Stiles tells himself this is a hint. Peter knows what game they’re playing. Even if neither of them ever explain the rules, Stiles is smart. Stiles can read between the lines. If Peter’s still playing, so is Stiles._

_He invites himself to Allison’s when Lydia suggests they catch up on Biology. They all have dinner together. Chris makes some kind of pasta, Allison and Lydia giggle from the table behind their glasses. Gerard shows up late, a cake in hand. It’s delicious, pure and creamy and soft. Stiles asks for the recipe. He talks about his mom, how this reminds him of one of the traditional dishes she made when she was still with them._

_He fucks up the cake and brings over a slice. He asks, what did he do wrong? Because, what could he have done wrong? The recipe wasn’t that complicated, Gerard says. Stiles confesses he has to get it right, he wants to surprise his dad soon, and he would really love it. Gerard plays nicely, and they use his kitchen to make the cake from scratch._

_Chris comes home while the cake’s cooling in the fridge. He takes one look at Stiles and gestures for him to follow. Stiles tries to exchange a look with Gerard, but said man waves him off with a conspiratory smile._

_Chris asks him why he’s really here. Stiles says something about the cake. Chris doesn’t buy it. Stiles dances around a reason, alluding, implying, and retracting statements in a whirl that leaves Chris feeling like he has the upperhand. Chris thinks Stiles wants to learn to hunt. Gerard rounds the corner and says Stiles could be a promising candidate. Stiles tells them he’d never betray his pack. Because that’s what Stiles should say._

_Both Gerard and Chris assume they know more than they do. They both think Stiles is on the defensive. They set up another day to meet up and discuss it in detail with Stiles. He and his dad both enjoy the cake the following night and Stiles starts feeling giddy. Everything’s going so well, so far._

_He thinks about how he’s going to do it, once he gets the chance. And how long, he wonders, should he wait? The answer, and the completion of his plans, come in the form of Jackson. For some ironic reason, the most annoying person he’d ever met has the key to his plans. He almost thanks Derek for taking the time to bite the complete head case that is Jackson Whittemore, but he doesn’t want to give anything away._

_So… they’re all paralyzed at the dining room table. He should have considered exactly how heavy they’d all be, but he figures over-looking a few things is fine. As long as they stay unmoving until he can get Peter here. He soaked a few small cloths in the Kanima venom beforehand, and he ties the cloths into the ropes. He gags them, and good luck moving anything now, fuckers._

_Allison looks surprised. Well, she looks a lot more surprised than either Gerard or Chris. Stiles thinks this is probably a normalized experience for both of them. He calls Peter._

_“And where did you get this number, Stiles?” Peter groans upon answering. “You know, I didn’t distribute my number for a reason. Namely, I didn’t want to anticipate calls from you local crime fighters that like to call yourself a pack.”_

_Stiles’ breath comes quick, excitement beginning to tingle in his extremities._

_“I have a surprise for you.”_

_Peter hesitates for a small moment before replying. “Well, that’s decidedly ominous. Am I going to regret this? I’m an awfully busy man, after all, picking up the scraps you all leave laying around.”_

_“Peter,” Stiles grins. “You’re going to love this.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see won’t we?” Peter says. “Now when am I receiving this surprise?”_

_“Well, uh, actually.” Stiles looks at his three captives who are staring daggers at him. “I can’t actually move it. I kind of set everything up already.”_

_“Very well.” Peter allows. “So where are you?”_

_“At the Argent’s house.”_

_“Is everything alright?” Peter’s reply comes too quickly._

_“Yeah it’s fine. You can even take your time getting here. You’re gonna love it, Peter, I know it.”_

_Peter hangs up and Stiles walks to the corner of the garage to get the canister of gasoline. He drenches them all. They’re soaking it all up, hair and clothes like wicks… like the desert, like the thirst of the sand._

_Stiles keeps eye contact with all of them at least once. When it doesn’t feel quite dramatic enough, he does it again, this time flicking a lighter to flame in his hand. Allison starts crying, and Stiles considers his minute efforts a success. He didn’t really think Gerard would break over the threat of a fire. He wasn’t sure about Chris, but he seems to be still as a statue. Well, Stiles considers, since he’s paralyzed, it doesn’t mean much._

_Peter shows up and Stiles walks him into the garage._

_“Surprise!” Stiles yells gleefully_

_Peter doesn’t say anything._

_Peter doesn’t even look at him. He walks circles around the trio, winding between the chairs, around each of them._

_“Well, there’s certainly no coming back from this.” Peter comments, looking at Stiles. Stiles anticipates something - he doesn’t know what, but Peter’s eyes are blank and his expression is drawn, and that’s not what he expected.  
_

_“Oh come on, you could look a little excited!” Stiles complains. “Do you know how heavy they are? I had to drag them all the way in here! Literally. All of them. One by one. Don’t you like it?”_

_If Peter doesn’t like it… Stiles doesn’t know. Isn’t this what he wanted? Isn’t this what all the hints were about? All the sly subtext was about this! Did Stiles get it wrong?_

_There really is no going back._

_He makes a split second decision, pulls a handful of hair away from Allison’s head, lights it, and then lets it fall back to her shoulders._

_He looks at Peter instead of Allison, ignoring the litany of cries and muffled screams coming from the Argents._

_“Peter, this is all for you. It’s what you want, right? I did it for you.” Stiles insists, walking closer to him. He doesn’t have a lot of time before someone smells the smoke. They all have to burn so the gift is complete. He can’t very well bring Peter here and not fully deliver._

_Stiles doesn’t care about Allison. He doesn’t care if she’s still moving, still screaming, still thrashing against all of her bonds in the attempt to just escape the inferno licking into her. He lights Chris and Gerard by their pant legs. The fire cradles them._

_“We need to leave.” Peter grits._

_Stiles looks at him with hopeful eyes. “You like it, right, Peter?”_

_“Of course I do,” Peter lies, “But you’ve chosen a path you don’t come back from.”_

_“I don’t care, Peter.” Stiles swoons, following Peter out of the back door and into the woods behind the house. “I knew you’ve been sending hints. I’m so happy I could do this for you.”_

_Peter parked a car a little ways into the preserve. “Get in. Now.”_

_“Of course.” Stiles grins. “So do you like me back?”_

_Peter looks incredulously at Stiles._

_“Do I… like you back?” He repeats, deadpan._

_“Yeah,” Stiles continues unphased, “I did that to show you. I like you. A lot, Peter.”_

_Stiles looks away, blushing and shy. Peter doesn’t know what to do. What did he get himself into?_

_“Yes, Stiles.” He says, “I like you too.”_

_Stiles fist-pumps and rolls his window down, babbling away._

_Peter wonders how on earth he got to this point. What gods did he offend so totally that disasters follow him like plague?_

_He rolls his own windows down and takes the highway out of the city._


End file.
